


Inverted Again

by Astoria Gracewell (arh581958)



Series: #MalecWeek [13]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec deserves nice things, Alternate Universe - This World Inverted (Shadowhunters TV), Cinnamonroll!Magnus, Daring!Alec, Day 1 - AU from S01E10, Embarassed!Magnus, Episode: s01e10 This World Inverted, GoodParent!Maryse, GoodParent!Robert, If only this was canon, Lightwoods derserve nice things, Lightwoods deserve to be happy, M/M, Magnus deserves nice things, Malec, Malec Week, Post-Episode: s01e10 This World Inverted, Shy!Magnus, Sinnamonroll!Alec, This is the cutesiest universe I've ever written, Valentine isn't a dick, confident!Alec, reverse verse, this would be the perfect world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 21:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11388678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Astoria%20Gracewell
Summary: Set in the iconic S01E10 "This World Inverted".Angel Industries has just launched its newest online data server which guarantees the fastest internet service in the world. To celebrate, they're hosting the biggest, loudest, craziest party worthy of such a novel idea--Wonderland--and Magnus Bane just happens to have an invitation. The only problem is that the doorman doesn't want to let him in!





	Inverted Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Malec Week July 2017. Day 1 - AU from S01E10. 
> 
> [Update: 2017-07-04] Beta read by the wonderful TYME! 
> 
> I tried to stick as close to SH-canon as possible, with a little twist here and there. Read end notes for more details!

This was all Ragnor’s fault. 

Like anything and everything, Ragnor Fell’s mischievous deeds always—note:  _ always _ —somehow meddled with Magnus’ peaceful Brooklyn life from all the way in the shrubby suburbs of Britain. 

“Tell me again  _ why _ I am doing this?” Magnus groused over his lukewarm cup of surely stale coffee. It had been hot this morning when he bought it from the coffee cart around the block. That was  _ before _ he’d been rudely interrupted by a Firecall on his phone. 

No, it wasn’t the Hogwarts-style head-in-fireplace kind of call but rather the newly developed communications app by AI—Angel Industries, telecommunications branch of the global Shadow World Industries. 

“ _ Because _ ,” Ragnor’s voice crackled through the static, “ _ I need my donation to be personally delivered, and it’s too expensive to fly all the way there. You know I hate flying—”   _

“—or sailing, or anything other than those rickety old trains of yours. I know, Ragnor, you’ve told me about it one thousand seven hundred and thirty five times. Believe me, I’ve got a tally in my  _ Ragnor is being a tit _ notebook. Couldn’t you have mailed it to them? You mailed it to me! How is that any different?” 

“ _ Because old biases are hard to overcome, my dear fellow. We may have not seen a demon rampant about in the Mundane World but the biases against the Downworld remain. I couldn’t bloody send the damn parcel! It’s got that little magical signature I left all over it—without my flowery personality to explain it.”  _

“Yes, yes…” Magnus rolled his eyes. “Like that’s any better.” He carded a hand through his loose hair, settling it to the back of his neck. The broken witchlight lamp flickered on and off on his balcony. He never did get that stupid thing fixed. “Couldn’t you just give it to the site in London?”

“ _ Tch. Adamas Inc. is their clean energy company not their telly-com. Quit being an arse and attend the party. Get me my high-speed internet here so I can call my sweetheart anytime and see her beautiful round blue—” _

“Err, no, TMI, Ragnor.” Magnus physically slapped his phone on the table to disconnect the call even if he didn’t need to. Sighing, he stared at the dark purple and pink stationery that held Ragnor’s invitation. The dusting of silver transferred to his hands. 

He can’t remember the last time he interacted with a Nephilim, but he desperately needed to find something to wear tonight. In the end, he only changed his clothes fifteen times. 

***

The Institute, the largest technology conglomerate in the entire East Coast, held the biggest, loudest, craziest party of the year. It was a staple since the current CEO, Valentine Morgenstern, was promoted a little over twenty years ago. Every year since then, NYC was one of the first major cities to experience greater, faster, more powerful internet capacities with wifi. 

All well and good, except Magnus didn’t really need wifi telling his customers that they’re experiencing early onset night fever from gallivanting about under the new moon. Connect anything to Angel Network and anyone—absolutely anyone—thinks they’re an expert in all things magical. Tell that to someone who has studied and tried to perfect it for the past four centuries. 

Ragnor, on the other hand, needed it like a fish needed water; hence, the hefty donation to AI’s RnD department to expand the network’s capabilities abroad. He and his long time girlfriend Catarina have been struggling for face-to-face contact the better part of a century. Now, with Angel Network, they could—possibly—cyber-screw like a pair of bunnies in heat. 

Eww, just, eww. 

“Put your hand here,” The grumpy-looking guy held the newest SI tablet in hand. It was thin and sleek and absolutely way above Magnus’ meager pay grade—Cherubim. Of course, only the latest tech would suffice such an occasion. This was, after all, the most anticipated party of mid-year. 

Magnus, looking lost and confused, complied. 

The Cherubim’s screen faded immediately glowed fiery red and let out an ear-piercingly high-pitched shrill. 

“What—what’s happening?” Magnus stuttered. The jitters came back. Cold sweat pooled in nearly every crevice of his body which was both inconvenient and disgusting to feel. He pulled out the small square folded envelope. “I—I have an invitation…”

The door guard was having none of it. He plucked the card from Magnus’ hand with scowl. “Formalities. Anyone knows these obsolete little things are useless when AI uses top grade biometrics. If you ask me, we should have just sent angel mail and saved a whole lot of trees.” 

“I…. I…” Magnus was thinking of all the ways he could strike his revenge on Ragnor and his insufferable silliness when another voice joined them. 

“What seems to be the problem here? Petr?”

Deep, dark, and dreamy were the only words that Magnus could use to describe that incredibly sexy voice. Husky, bold, and full-of-promise could be others. What stole his breath, however, was the pair of gorgeous green eyes that pierced him like an arrow to the heart. Those same eyes briefly glanced down. 

_ Petr _ would have turned red in the ears if his dark complexion allowed it. His disapproval clearly showed. “This guy’s trying to crash the party. His prints aren’t on the database. Downworlder tried to sneak into with this—” he passed Ragnor’s invite, “—probably stole it from someone outside. I’ll call in security.”

Magnus opened his mouth to protest, but the green-eyed Shadowhunter beat him to it once more. 

“Enough,” the green-eyed Shadowhunter said, motioning to the tablet. His eyes never left Magnus’ while he tinkered with the pad. After several brisk movement, the same biometric screen showed. “Your hand here, if you please, and we’ll get this all sorted out.” 

“That’s what I did. I tried and it—” 

“Trust me.” He said with a wink, offering the pad again. “Right here in the—” his long tab fingers, clad in an assortment of metal rings, encircled Magnus’ wrist and guided the warlock’s hand, “—middle.” The screen beeped once then blinked green. “There you go, Mister…?” 

“B-Bane,” Magnus stammered, “Magnus Bane, erhm, uh, High—”

“High Warlock of Brooklyn,” the Shadowhunter finished for him. “I see you’ve finally come out from hiding. Here, I thought that you were only a  _ very _ wonderful fantasy. I cannot say I’m disappointed. A  _ pleasure _ to meet your acquaintance.”

“But, Alec…” Petr, the sentry, argued back. “He isn’t in the system.” 

Alec raised his hand. The multicolored rings twinkled under the strobe lights. There was, perhaps, something hidden under his collar too. He didn’t even look back. “I’ll take care of this one. Don’t be such a  _ prude _ , Petr. I organized this after all. I can invite whoever I want and this handsome warlock is my guest. Now, step aside before I give you night patrol again.” 

The threat worked, seeing as Petr deflated like a kicked puppy. 

“Come on,” said Alec, leaning in close with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My threats only work for the simple ones. We better go before Seb gets here. Angels, I swear he’s like a demon, that one. An arse-solute stickler for the rules. He’s rather be killed than be caught dead  _ bending _ one.” Without ceremony, he laced their fingers together and pulled Magnus into Wonderland. 

Wonderland, it was. 

Hot metal burned into Magnus’ skin. He has not stepped foot inside an Enclave in centuries, long before any of the Nephilim here were even born—and that included Jessamine Lovelace, who once walked the halls of London before coming to settle here in the United States. Her platinum blonde hair had long gone grey and cropped short. 

She caught his eyes for the briefest second and sent the most minuscule nod his way. 

He tripped in surprise then crashed spectacularly on top of a certain green-eyed Shadowhunter that may or may not be named Alec. Thank the deities for his dark skin to hide his blush. 

“Woah, easy there, Tiger. I was thinking we could have some frogspawn-infused caviar in biscuits, Napoleon Reserved cognac tiramisu, topped off with a shot of Weasel Cat expresso,” said Alec, his arms wrapped around Magnus’s middle. He had his eyes fixated on Magnus’ face then quickly glancing at the warlock’s lips. 

Magnus followed with his eyes and saw a glint of silver around Alec’s neck, disappearing under the dark blue collar. He struggled to get up. His legs, the traitorous things, failed him miserably. “I’m sorry. This is completely inappropriate.” 

“I quite agree.” Alec nodded.  Though, he made no more to stand. “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name Alexander Lightwood but you, absolutely delectable man, can moan anything you want. I’m the head of Marketing and Corporate Communications. I believe I’ve already said it but there’s no harm is saying it again,you know, just in case you were too busy staring at me the first time around. It is a  _ pleasure _ to meet you, Magnus Bane.” 

Magnus felt himself getting hard in his pants, and he isn’t the only one. There’s a steady pressure on his upper thigh that definitely wasn’t a flashlight or phone—not with those sinfully  _ tight _ jeans that Alec was wearing.

“Eww, Alec!” A very scandalized female voice screeched. “Can you please not do this in the middle of the dance floor, please? You’re ruining the  _ feng shui _ and totally messing with my  _ chi _ ! We promised mom and dad that we’ll keep everything G-rated! Besides, Val is right  _ there _ —” the tone turned panicky, “—oh, no, he’s coming here! Hurry! Up! Up! Alec,  _ up _ !”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Take a chill pill, Izzy, he tripped and I caught him. Nothing criminal about that. Besides, you  _ know _ I save my a-game for after the third date.” He glanced down and winked at the befuddled Magnus. “Help him up. He’s might have left his land legs at the door.” 

A pale hand entered Magnus’ field of vision, followed by “Please, please tell me he isn’t fibbing. You can be honest. You safe here. And, please, please don’t file a sexual assault suit against _mi_ _hermano_ —the cost of the legal battle alone—and the lawyer—and the press—oh, and the bad publicity! What a scandal. AI’s stocks will plummet. No, no, no.” She rambled million miles a minute, “He didn’t mean anything. He’s _el tonto_ but I love him. He just flirts with everything that moves but I swear he is harmless, I promise.” 

_ Flirts with everything that moves _ ; the sentence hurt Magnus more than it should. Who was he to think he was so special to catch a god like Alec’s attention? He felt like he’s just been played—terribly. Damn, Nephilim. 

Dusting the specks of gold dust on his knees, Magnus struggled to keep his voice steady. “It’s completely  _ fine _ , uh, err, Izzy…? Izzy, right?” He waited for her nod then sent a placating smile her way, side-glancing Alec. “He’s telling the truth. I’m a little clumsy. You’d think my warlock mark would be two left feet!“ 

Izzy’s eyes grew wide. Both of her hands came up to cover her mouth in a dainty little gesture. “You’re a warlock! Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. O-M-geee! I’ve never met a warlock before. I mean I know they exist but I’ve never worked with one because, well,  _ duh _ —” she made a weird-looking face then mimed shooting herself in the head with her finger-gun, “I work in The Gard—it’s   _ ayy mierda _ ! English is so hard. Ones-and-zeroes are easier than this!” 

Magnus tried to seem amused despite the tightness in his chest. He completely avoided Alec’s eyes. “No, no, that’s fine. I favor Javanese myself but it’s rare to find someone who speaks it in NYC. Computers have a more universal language.” 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” said a much older man with a bright genial smile on his face. Izzy visibly turned a pretty shade of pink. He eyed Magnus carefully then turned to Alec. “I didn’t know you brought a date. Introduce your handsome boyfriend to me, will you Alec?” 

“I, uhm, we’re—”

“It’s new.” Alec cut in. “Don’t bully him, Val, he isn’t used to the spotlight. Now, if you can excuse us for a few minutes, I think we need some fresh air. I may have overdone the smoke machines.” He laced their fingers together for a second time. 

The metal felt cold and foreign. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Alec!” Valentine called out as they fled from the embarrassing scene. 

Magnus found the strength to pull his hand away a few minutes later. The indentations of Alec’s rings left a pitiful reminder of what he shouldn’t want on his fingers. “Clearly, there’s been a mistake. I—” he curled into himself, shivering. “I shouldn’t even be here. Ragnor—” 

“Ragnor Fell, yes.” Alec’s face flashed recognition, then melted into something darker. “He and my father are acquainted. Is he—are you…?” He shook his head, then steeled himself—face freezing into a cold façade, back straight, and nothing of his charming warm nature remained. “Yes, he gave you his invitation. Strictly  _ against  _ the Clave’s rules for engagement but we’ve made exceptions for him in the past. You must be  _ friends. _ ” He sneered the last word. 

A black hole pulled at Magnus’ core. “I, uhm—” he lifted his chin in determination, “—I brought his check for donation. Could you… could you be so kind as to introduce me to your father?” 

“I might as well. I let you in anyway.” None of Alec’s earlier agreeableness was left. “He’s likely to be on the dance floor. He loves a good party. I thought I did too.” He turned around without bothering to reach for Magnus’ hand this time. 

Navigating through half-intoxicated Nephilim proved harder without Alec’s hand guiding Magnus along. Magnus nearly lost track of his angelic companion who has uncanny grace in weaving in and out through the crowds. It was good that he had an above-average—note: a hundred times better than any  _ voyance rune  _ back when Nephilim still used them—vision, courtesy of his strange cat-like eyes. It also helped that Alec’s statuesque stature towered over most people in attendance.

Alec approach a tall pale man, whose features were reminiscent of Izzy, in the middle of the dance floor. “Dad, it seems that Ragnor couldn’t make the party tonight but his dear friend has graced us with his presence. His name carries quite a reputation as well—” he ushered for Magnus to step closer, “—this is Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, another friend of our people if you recall the portals invented by Henry. He provided research for the demonic runes.” 

“The same runes that Isabelle…?” Robert Lightwood, the President and Chairman of Angel Industries, asked Alec. He took in Magnus’ appearance from head to toe. “I thought you’d be… taller. Old Henry’s stories made you seem larger than life. He had a truly a brilliant mind but turned into a bit of a loony when he grew older. Tsk. Tsk. Oh, where are my manners?” 

He passed Alec his tea cup, wiped his hands on an honest-to-Raziel handkerchief, then extended an open palm towards Magnus. “Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Bane. I’m Robert Lightwood. My daughter and I are big, big fans of your work. Without your research, she would never have made the breakthrough to our octa-gig high-speed Internet connection. It’s another whole dimension to the internet beyond anything we’ve ever seen before!” 

Magnus down-turned his lips. He fought hard not to roll his eyes and be incredibly rude. “Yes, well, that sounds awfully like a marketing talk point for your product. Rather, a bit too rehearsed in your delivery to be honest.” 

“Yes, well,” Robert let out a laugh. “This why I leave the media spinning to my most darling son, Alexander. I’m more of the guy behind the scenes.” 

“Err…” Magnus shifted back and forth on his heels awkwardly. 

“ _ Dad _ ,” Alec intoned with a cough, “Magnus brought Mr. Fell’s donation. I think that our protocols still haven’t been updated. Perhaps you need to speak with Verlac about it. I have told him a hundred times about removing the discriminatory block against Downworlders. I can only wager that he  _ still _ hasn’t changed anything. It’s the 20 th century! We aren’t barbarians.” 

“Now, Alec,” Robert warned, “We have a guest. Don’t air out the Institute’s dirty laundry. I am sure Magnus here doesn’t want to hear your whining. But, fear not, I’ll have a word with Sebastian and his security team about the firewalls. Now, we are both being rude to our honored guest,” he said, turning back to Magnus. “He’s a sweetheart, I assure your, Mr. Bane, although he does have a tendency to run his mouth. He gets it from his mother.” 

“Tarnishing my name again, darling?” Maryse Lightwood, in all her devil-wears-red dress, strode up to her husband with a flirty little smile. Her shoes, Magnus noted, also had the same striking color. 

Robert spun his wife around before dipping her low in a passionate kiss. 

Magnus blushed. He felt it down to the back of his neck at the public display. Never did he imagine the picture perfect couple on TiVo could be so disgustingly sweet in real life. Cavities nearly made themselves around the pair. He bargained a glance towards a scowling Alec. 

“I can leave the check…?” 

Alec checked his watch. It was a thing of shining silver beauty encrusted with amethysts. He rolled his eyes at his parents. “Hold that thought,” he said, finger raised as he counted the seconds. “A—and, three, two, one… ding ding ding!” 

Maryse and Robert broke apart on cue. Robert tried to lean in once more but Alec grabbed him by the shoulder. 

“I am not sorry to interrupt. No, not really.  _ Dad _ ,” Alec groused, “the check?” He glances at Magnus, eyes trailing to a particular spot on the lower half of Magnus’ face. 

Robert reluctantly pulled away from his wife. “Yes, yes, the check!“ An arm stayed around his wife as he faced Magnus again. “My apologies. But, how can I, really? You cannot expect me to  _ not _ be enthralled by this beautiful woman? You’ve met my wife? Maryse, this is our biggest silent investor’s dear friend, Magnus Bane. Alec brought him.” 

“Oh,” Maryse giggled, tossing her hair. “ _ Alec _ brought him? He never brings  _ anyone  _ to these things! You think blurring the lines of work and play is wrong but look at us, my love, married and happy despite our busy schedules.” She reached for Magnus, “Mr. Bane, I do hope you cherish my darling boy, won’t you? He’s barks more than he bites. He gets that from me.” 

“Mom! We just met!” Alec turned an unbelievable shade of red down to his neck, which given his tan was quite a feat. His eyes darted to the warlock. “Give me time to woo him at least! Being gay doesn’t mean that I’ll screw anything that moves.” 

“If course not, Alec, you  _ must  _ choose your bed partners more carefully than that and watch your language!” Maryse chastised with a frown. “You don’t want Mr. Bane to get the wrong impression of you.” To Magnus, who was baffled, she said, “Don’t believe him what he says, Mr. Bane. I can assure you that he’s hasn’t brought anyone home ever despite his machismo. It’s all for show just like his father.” 

“What’s wrong with giving it up on the first date, Maryse my love, we turned our fine didn’t we? Three beautiful children and we can try for more. Imagine another little Maryse running around all over the Institute.” Robert teased. 

Alec coughed loudly to regain their lost attention. “You both have lost your heads. Now, if you please, Magnus has a check that he needs to hand over. Can you stop eye-fucking for all of five minutes so I can have my wicked way with him upstairs?” 

“I what?!” Magnus sputtered as the intensity of both their gazes settled on him. “Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood, we aren’t—he and I are just—” 

Alec gave him the same look when they were at the doors earlier. 

_ Trust me _ , it said. 

Alec flashed him a smile. His eyes dropped for a second before meeting Magnus’ once more. “Magnus, the check?” 

“Ah, yes, yes, I have it right here,” Magnus forced a smile. His palms were sweaty when he pulled the check from his inner coat pocket. Never in a thousand lives did he imagine standing in front of Angel Industry’s monarchy and have one of them eying him the whole night—in a non suspicious way. Timidly, he passed it to Robert. “Ragnor said I had to hand it in personally, erhm, sir, but he didn’t give me instructions to who. I suppose the President and Chairman would know...?” 

Robert bubbled up in laughter. “Yes, that would be to me.” 

“Alright. Done? Wonderful!“ Alec did not bother waiting for a response from anyone before whisking Magnus away, leading with long strides across the hall. “Oh, thank angels that’s finished. I’ve finally gotten you alone! As if I haven’t been trying to do that  _ all _ night. You wouldn’t believe how popular you are, Mr.  _ I’m going to try and blend in but fail spectacularly and get everyone’s attention anyway.  _ If this weren’t a party, I think I’d have to be beating off other Nephilim with a very strongly worded memo.” 

“Pfft.” Magnus gagged. “Not a stick then?” 

Alec stopped abruptly, giving him a horrified expression. “What do you think I am? A barbarian! Puh-lease, strongly worded memos are a working man’s weapon in choice. That’s what Maureen, my yoga pal, assured me. No messing up my nails. Wouldn’t want scratch marks on you, now, would you?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Alec, stop right there.” Magnus shook his head, hand raised. “What are we—what are  _ you _ doing?Taking me all over the place, flirting like there’s no tomorrow, looking for all the world like you want to kiss me! This is why I  _ hate _ going to this stupid Nephilim parties. You think you own the world and just take, take, take!” 

Alec pulled away, biting his lip. “But I do,” he said quietly, looking away. “I do want to kiss you, but not just that. I want—I want to see what you look like when you wake up in the morning, make you breakfast even if I’m a terrible, terrible cook and see what face you’ll make, bury my nose in your hair, go on dates with you and maybe—just maybe—you’ll let me sleepover and I can find out if you snore at night. Or maybe I’ll snore and you’ll kick me out of bed. Magnus you may think we’ve only met but that’s not true.” 

“What. Do. You. Mean. Alec…?” Magnus stared at the Shadowhunter in disbelief. “I would remember meeting you.”  _ You’re you _ . 

“Years ago,” said Alec, twiddling with the ring he wore on his thumb, worrying at his lower lip. “I was maybe four? Five. I’m not sure. Kids in the mundane preschool said I was weird for not liking Lydia Branwell back. I ran away and got lost. You found me and gave me this—” he pulled a simple silver cord from his neck with a dark blue stone attached to the end of it, “—you said to follow the glow.” 

Magnus recognized the stone as a broken piece of witchlight. The very same piece from his balcony. He gave that to a scrawny little mundane boy years ago. 

“I knew you were a warlock but I—” he gestured to the grand opulence behind him, “I had to grow up. Expectations, you know? But, I never forget about you. You were the first person to tell me that it was okay to be different and I—I’ve got word vomit. I’m sorry for spewing all that nonsense. You must think I’m a blubbering fool for even thinking—Angels! I don’t even know what I was thinking ‘cause I wasn’t. I saw you and I… “ he ran his hands through his gelled hair, messing it up, “…  I am doing it again, aren’t I?”

“Shh.” Magnus pressed a finger to Alec’s lips before the Nephilim could start talking again. A small shy smile played on his lips. “You know what? I’ll just go for it.” 

He grabbed fistfuls of Alec’s lapels and crashed their lips together. It was everything he could have dreamed of and more. His magic sizzled under his skin, running through his veins, all the way down to his finger tips. He hadn’t felt like this—this alive, this powerful, this  _ magnificent  _ in ages. This was what it felt like to be alive from the very core. He reached for the back of Alec head, rose to his tippy-toes, and deepened the kiss with lots of tongue. 

Alec grabbed him by the waste and sparks started flying—literally. 

“Oww!” Alec yelped, pulling back to touch the back of his neck. 

Magnus lifted his hands to study his flickering fingers. “Well, what do you know…” he hummed happily, “…. That’s my magic. I think it likes you.” 

Alec chuckled. “I’m more than okay with that.” He took Magnus by the hand and pulled the warlock until they were pressed together. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, kissing each if Magnus’ sparking fingertips, “I think I can bribe Izzy to put the research on expanding the Angel Network globally into hyper-speed. Then we can thank you friend Ragnor and firecall him—with video.” 

***

In his humble estate in the forests of London, Ragnor Fell received a message from the newly updated Firecall application on his phone. The new features included faster speeds, improved picture quality, and a file sharing option. It was a photo image from an unknown number. He opened it cautiously. 

“Well, bugger me that.” 

It was a picture—a poorly taken selfie—of an embarrassed looking Magnus, who tried and failed to hide his face from the camera, being kissed on the cheek by a handsome dark-haired man with green eyes. 

The caption read:  _ I’m a green-eyed monster so don’t get ideas  _ __

**Author's Note:**

> One major thing that irked me about this entire episode was THE JOBS. 
> 
> See; in the TMI-books, Clary was canonically 16 but the SH-show aged her up to 18 to avoid any legal implications of a minor running around New York City battling demons for reasons. If we follow TMI-book logic, that would make Jace, Isabelle, and Simon all the same age--18--on the show too, while Alec is 20. The episode also had Jocelyn saying Clary was staying in the university dorms. So... how is Isabelle, who is 18, be the tech-genius behind a telecommunications conglomerate's newest product? Yes, she _could_ be a prodigy but she ain't no Tony Stark. I'm not trying to disrespect her or anything but Simon being a starting-out rockstar in a band or Jace in a coffee cart (nice TMI-book-reference by the way. Kudos!) are more believable. It would have taken Izzy _years_ to advance tech and she wouldn't have been a minor then. Exploitation of a minor! Isabelle should be in university! Or a fresh graduate! Anyhow. How about Alec? Valentines the CEO or something. But, what about Alec? What's his job? What's his role? What's he even doing in the Institute if he isn't a Shadowhunter?
> 
> Okay, there. Rant complete. I'm sorry about all of that. Hopefully, I answered my questions with the worldbuilding I made for this story. Thank you for reading all the way down to the end comments. Kisses!
> 
> ***
> 
> ANNOUNCEMENT: I am moving to Ecuador for a couple of months. Any recommendations on what to do there? 
> 
> ***
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)~
> 
> As always, **kudos/comments/bookmarks** are all appreciated by this author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I _do_ read the bookmark tags (some are really fun).


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